Theodicy
by HallowedInk
Summary: One is an arrogant jerk, the other is a reclusive bad boy. It only figures that they would do well together. Sort of AS/S, rated for themes.


_Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies._

_A/N: Hmm... Let me see. Okay, first off, thank you to my amazing, amazing beta, **2Padfoot00Moony9** (you are good a betaing, never doubt!). She has done a lovely job on this, and go check out her stuff as well, especially if you are a Remus/Sirius fan._

_Second, I am so deeply sorry that I have not posted anything in so long. It's just, reality demands a lot of time. Anyway, it's holidays now, so more time for writing._

_Thirdly, if you are interested in anymore of my next gen stuff, check out my blog:_ three-pennies. livejournal. com_. (Also for explanations as to why my next gen are so... messed up.)_

_Now on with the story._

**_Warning: The auther hereby frees herself from any and all responsibility concerning brain damage caused by the extreme weirdness of this story._**

* * *

**Theodicy**

_n; a vindication of the divine attributes, particularly holiness and justice, in establishing or allowing the existence of physical and moral evil_

_[One is an arrogant jerk, the other is a reclusive bad boy. It only figures that they would do well together.]_

-

**.1. Score Malfoy, go be a jerk to someone else.**

It was Friday lunch time, and the Slytherins Seventh Years were sitting together in the Great Hall. They had formed a little group at the end of the table, with at least five empty seats between them and the rest of their House. That was law – the five seats, that is. The other law is that everyone lower than Fifth Year was going to have to clear out of the common room that night.

The Seventh Years said so.

"Party tonight," one of them announced. Alex Nott, the organiser.

The group tittered. Alex looked around at them with a look of mock seriousness.

"I was thinking – you know – should we invite the other Houses? Twelve sickle entrance and free alcohol the whole night."

"It'd be a good way to make money," Sandra Jacobs agreed, then went back to filing her nails.

The others nodded, so Alex declared, "It's settled then. We'll invite the other Houses."

At that moment, the last of the group arrived.

"What did I miss?" Score Malfoy asked, bumping fists with some of the boys around the table in greeting, and slinging himself into a seat next to Coraline Fudge. He slung an arm around her should and breathed into her ear. Cora smiled seductively at him.

Score ignored the smile. She looked like a constipated chicken when she did that, but no one had the heart to tell her. Besides, she was Score's girlfriend.

"We're inviting the other Houses to the party tonight – twelve sickles on the door and they get free alcohol the whole night. Makes us a bit on the money on the side. Say, will you change the password for us, just for the night?" Alex put in for Score's sake, before going back to his food.

Score nodded. He was Head Boy, so he could change the password. "Sure I will. Sounds like fun. Maybe a chance to finally get those hot Ravenclaw girls who've been holding out for so long drunk."

Cora glared.

"Mate, you have a girlfriend," Mark Cabrero reminded him dryly.

Score shrugged arrogantly, "So? She doesn't mind."

"She does," Cora informed him haughtily, then stood up. Immediately, all the other girls around the table followed their Queen Bee immediately and rose, collecting their things and walking imperiously to the door.

Cora stayed behind just long enough to tell Score, "You're such a jerk, you know that."

Score smirked deviously, and pinched her bottom. "Yeah, well that's what the girls like, isn't it?"

Cora stalked off.

-

**.2. Al Potter is the most notorious recluse that ever existed.**

"God," murmured someone from Gryffindor, who was either drunk, or stupid, or both. Score was betting on both. "Look at that Potter. He's such a recluse. I'm so glad he's not in our House."

Both Potter Number One and Potter Number Three had been in Gryffindor. The Potter they were discussing (if this could really be called a discussion) was Potter Number Two, also known as Al Potter. And sure enough, he was being a recluse. The party was in full swing (this is measured by how badly the toilets stank of vomit), but Al had merely occupied an armchair near the fire and spent the whole evening reading his Defence textbook.

Okay, so Al Potter was a bit of a recluse, Score agreed – and, somewhere in the back of his alcohol-hazed mind, a voice screamed at him that he was _agreeing_ with a _Gryffindor_, what sacrilege; but he had long since been ignoring that voice. Ever since he'd snogged Fifth Year Marlene Flint a half an hour ago, and it started asking him what happened to Cora – but Al was a Slytherin first and foremost.

"Al's not a recluse," he informed the Gryffindor coldly. Then he turned to leave, because he had just realised that this might be considered as having a conversation with a Gryffindor, and that was a problem.

He walked off, and approached Alex Nott and Theo Harper, who were standing together, chatting, and eyeing the girls.

The Gryffindork followed him. Didn't she know when she was not wanted?

"You jerk, don't just walk away," the Gryffindork snapped. Score turned back to her. Hey, she had breasts – maybe he would pull her too, when she was done snapping at him. She could put that pretty mouth to better use. That was generally all Gryffindor Girls were good for, anyway.

Maybe not. It would obliterate his reputation. And he had been working on that reputation for a very long time. It was a good reputation.

"What do you want now?" he asked her, trying to convey with his words that he didn't want her around. It didn't work very well because he was drunk.

"Potter is a recluse," she insisted. "He's the most notorotorious reluse that ever xisted."

"Notorious recluse," Score corrected her, frowning. Even if you were drunk, don't show it so obviously. Honestly, mixing up words... "And there's no such thing as a notorious recluse. That's would be a contradiction. You can't be notorious and a recluse. You'd be too popular."

The girl sniffed and walked off. Alex came over and slung an arm across Score's shoulders. Score figured that Alex was drunk. Or that he had finally given in and admitted that he really was a pouf.

"Who was that?" Alex asked.

"Oh, just some chick," Score murmured derisively. "Trying to convince me that Potter was a notorious recluse, or some rubbish like that. It was stupid; a contradiction. You can't be a notorious recluse. It doesn't work."

"That's why he's the most notorious one," Theo supplied drily from behind them. "He has no competition."

-

**.3. This school is going down.**

Al Potter got back to the dorm room at two in the morning that night. Well, this was normal. Apparently, he did that every night, though Score was not really an authority on _every_ night. Al had been late back every time Score had stayed awake long enough to notice, though.

It was Sunday, and if he didn't have to finish this Transfiguration essay by tomorrow first period then he would have been in bed and fast asleep by now. As it was, he was lying on his stomach on his bed, writing by the light of his wand, when suddenly the door opened quietly and Al Potter stumbled in.

Score rolled over and regarded him from where he lay. Seen from the side at two in the morning, Al looked drunk.

Maybe he was drunk, but seeing as Score had definitely not seen him touch even a drop of alcohol at the party on Friday, he sincerely doubted this option.

Al, meanwhile, whilst Score was making his worldly observation, dragged himself across the room and slumped on his bed. He lay there for a few minutes, staring dumbly at the ceiling. Then he sat up lethargically and leaned down to unlace his shoes. Score averted his eyes, and by the time he looked back, Al had shed his clothes and was lying slumped down on his bed in a pair of black boxer shorts.

"Stop staring at me." The voice was tired.

Score blinked, then replied, "Don't think you're so special that I would be staring at you, Potter."

"God, you really are arrogant, aren't you?" Al replied, rolling over onto his side so he could look Score in the eyes. "Go on, ask. I can see you want to."

_You're just as arrogant_, Score wanted to tell him, but he didn't. Instead he said, "Where were you?"

"Nowhere."

That annoyed Score. "If you weren't planning on answering then why did you tell me to ask in the first place?"

"Fine." Al rolled his eyes and then lay back on his back, kicking one leg over the other and his nails casually. "I was out, having sex with my girlfriend."

"You have a girlfriend?"

"Yes, Malfoy, I have a girlfriend." He furrowed his brow in pretence of confusion and smiled mockingly. "I thought Slytherins always tried to know everything about their peers?"

Score gritted his teeth and quickly changed the subject. He didn't much like being mocked. No surprise there.

"Okay, so that explains tonight. What about all the other nights you've stayed out? You can't _possibly_ stay up shagging your girlfriend until two in the morning every night."

Al Potter sighed loudly and exaggeratedly, and made a show of throwing his hands above his head and rolling his eyes. "You just don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?" Now, Score was really confused. He was also harbouring the feeling that he was missing something here. Something important. He blamed it on being tired. It was two in the morning, after all.

"I don't have a girlfriend, idiot. That was just an excuse."

"Oh." An excuse for what? What could he be doing out in the halls at night?

"'Oh'? That's all you have to say? _'Oh'_? Wow, you really crack me up." Score could barely believe his eyes. Al Potter – Al _Potter_ – was actually laughing at him! Well, it was more of a kind of chuckle-snicker, and very quiet. But, really. Al Potter.

And then he suddenly went silent and serious. "You want an explanation. Okay. I'm an insomniac, you idiot."

-

**.4. Didn't you hear? I shagged you yesterday in the broom cupboard.**

The next morning, Score was tired, but he didn't show it (because Malfoys don't show weakness). He was also ignoring Al Potter, but he didn't show that either.

In fact, he wasn't really ignoring him. It was more that he didn't really know what to say to the boy after his confession last night, further than a small "Oh, ah, sorry. I'm going to sleep now," which had seemed to satisfy the boy last night, but it might not satisfy him today.

He really was a jerk.

There was also the fact that the average human being has the remarkable ability of picking up on when he is being talked about, and Score was picking up on that big time at the moment.

And then, Monday after dinner, just when they were finished up, and pretty much the whole school, plus teachers, was there to see, Al Potter took matters into his own hands and approached Score.

"People are talking about us."

"I had heard," Score murmured, and then, unable to resist his call of duty, added, "I'm used to it. After all, being the centre of attention is like second nature to me."

It was only after a second's reflection that he realised that saying that to a _Potter Child_, of all people, was a bit stupid. He decided to repent.

"Well then, what have they been saying?"

"Oh, you hadn't heard?" Apparently, Potter Number Two could give as good as he got.

"Heard what?" Score asked, growing increasingly frustrated.

"Apparently, we shagged in the changing rooms after Quidditch practice. Bowley, of Ravenclaw, walked in on us."

_What?_ Score was momentarily horrified. People were spreading rumours about him and Potter... having sex? No way. That could not be true. Horror fast gave way to anger, but his anger gave way too. Instead, he fixed a calm, casual expression on his face. The best way to get rid of rumours was to ignore them.

A better, and distinctly more Slytherin, way was to prove them right.

"No, I hadn't heard about it. When did this happen?"

"Well," Al drawled with a smirk, "It hasn't happened yet. But I thought, you know, maybe we should go and make it happen. Give them something real to talk about."

"It'd be the first true rumour in this school, that's for sure," Score murmured, lowering his voice the way he did for the girl-on-his-arm when he wanted to get some with as little hassle as possible. "However, there is a flaw in your plan. If it is real, then they will not want to talk about it, will they?"

"Well, it least it would shut them up for a while." Al's voice had lowered as well, and his eyes were running up and down Score's body. Score felt vaguely like a creature in one of those Muggle zoos. "So, what d'you say?"

He pretended to think about it. "I'm not a pouf."

" I'm not one either," Al supplied, "But the sex is good."

That made Score snicker. Finally, he gave in. Making a big show of standing up, collecting his things, and presenting his hand to Al, he asked, loud enough for a high enough percentage of the school to hear that within ten minutes everybody would know, "Where's the nearest broom cupboard?"

Al gave a chuckle and grabbed his arm. "Let's go," he drawled with a smirk.

-

**.5. We've defeated the world.**

"So, Bowley, you thought it would be funny to spread rumours about us?"

Al and Score stood shoulder to shoulder above the little Ravenclaw Sixth Year, wands out. Both of them were deriving immense pleasure from watching the kid cower before them.

"N-n-n-n-n-no," he squeaked. "I-i-i-I'm s-s-s-s-s-s-sorry. P-p-p-p-please d-d-don't hurt m-m-m-me."

Al and Score exchanged glances, silently debating how to deal with the brat who had thought that he was powerful enough to take on two Slytherins and win.

A few well placed hexes later, and the two boys casually sauntered out of their little side-corridor and headed out into the sunshine to join their friends.

"Party tonight," Alex Nott was announcing. The other Slytherins grinned. Fridays absolutely made the whole week worth it.

"Are we inviting the other Houses again?" Score enquired, already mentally planning what he would change the password to this time, and how he would manage to bypass relevant authorities to do so.

"I think yes," Alex said, glancing around the circle of Seventh Years, looking for acquiescence. There were several nods, so he in turn directed a nod towards Score. "Change the password again, will you."

"Done," Score said with his usual arrogant smirk.

"Cool." Alex nodded once more at Score, then glanced away. It was at that moment that he noticed Al. "Oh, and will the great Al Potter be gracing us with his presence this time?"

"I was there last time," Al informed him.

"Ah yes. I meant actually taking part. Or are you too good for our measly little House parties?"

"Well," Al drawled snootily, "Yes actually, I am. My brother throws much better parties. And honestly, what's a bunch of slutty seventeen-year-old girls versus my cousin Victoire's model friends?"

Beaten, Alex shot the Potter Boy a glare that could have frozen Fiend Fyre, before turning away.

Al promptly excused himself and left.

-

Later, at the party, Al repented a little. Instead of spending the evening camped out by the fire with a book, he collected a bottle of alcohol-of-indeterminable-origin from the refreshment table and stood himself next to Score at the edge of the room.

"You know what kind of a joke it is?" he commented when he had downed a sufficient quantity of alcohol. "Our fathers were worst enemies. It only figures that we would be friends."

"Well, I wouldn't really call us friends," Score supplied without looking at him. Looking caused sexual tension, for some bizarre reason, so Score liked to avoid it. Especially now, when both had had something to drink.

"No. I don't really do friends," Al agreed after a pause in which he slurped elegantly from his bottle. Score couldn't resist sneaking a glance, and was immediately jealous. Why couldn't _he_ look that cool when drinking?

"Me either," he managed finally. It was true. He didn't really have any friends. Cora was a convenient trophy girl. Nott and Harper were more of friendly (and sometimes not so friendly) rivals. Al was his sex buddy for when Cora failed (occasions which were becoming increasingly frequent. Maybe it was time to trade her in for a new girlfriend).

Al was talking again, though. "Well, you know what they say. There's a fine line between hate and love."

"Too true."

FIN

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_A/N: Whew, finished. There should be more where that came from... Soon-ish..._

_On another note, you would not believe how long I waited to post this. I couldn't find a beta, so I had to wait... Anyway, it's done now._

_Please review!_


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